


Don’t Need to Say It (I Know)

by lovinguislonely



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, M/M, cas comes back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29076777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinguislonely/pseuds/lovinguislonely
Summary: Cas comes back in the springtime. And Dean rights some wrongs, and makes a confession that is long overdue.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143





	Don’t Need to Say It (I Know)

**Author's Note:**

> In the terms of this fic, the finale simply does not exist. 15x20?? What’s that? Never heard of it.

Cas comes back in the springtime.

That’s all Dean can remember really. The birds chirping softly, the bugs buzzing wildly. All the joy, and brand new life that the changing season brought in. He remembers the sun, how it shined so beautifully, painted the world in a delicate orange glow. He remembers sitting outside with his brother, Miracle curled up his lap. Sam smiled. Miracle’s tail wagged. They were alive. After all that, after everything, they were still alive. And the world was safe. For the first time, well, ever… they were all _safe._

But Dean couldn’t shake it. The distant ache in his chest. The bitter cold he felt when he closed his eyes. He was still grieving, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He was still lonely. 

He _missed_ him.

Not the way he missed his Mom. Or Jack. Or anyone else they’d lost. Of course, he felt their absence. He felt them in every empty space. In his Mom’s room, still untouched. Her clothes still hanging in her closet, wafting the scent of her shampoo. In Jack’s favorite coffee cup, his star wars poster in the hall, his shoes still sitting by the door. He couldn’t bring himself to move them. Still hoping, longing, for Jack to come home. Waiting to see him walk back through the door, wave his hand with a smile, squeak out an excited “Hello!”. Dean missed them more than anything. He could still hear his Mom’s laugh. Still see Jack’s smile.

But Cas…

Dean _ached_ for him. He couldn’t escape it. The painful churn of his stomach whenever he thought about him. The burning surge of longing in his veins. Like he’s blood was made of acid. He thought maybe he’d always felt it. He _knew_ he had. He’d always felt himself tilt in his direction whenever Cas was near. He felt the sting of want when Cas touched him. Which he hardly ever did. He got a touch to the shoulder once in a blue moon. A hug when the world was ending, or one of them was dying, or one of them had just come _back_ to life. Cas seemed to avoid touching Dean whenever possible. Dean supposed, now he knew why. Now he knew how Cas’ veins burned in reciprocation. How Cas tilted. And ached. And stared. 

Dean had always pushed it down. As far down as he possibly could. It was the sort of thing Dean couldn’t tell a soul. Not his Mom. Not Jody. Not even Sam. Dean buried his feelings for Cas where no one would ever see them. Not even himself. And how painful, how _gut wrenching_ it is to think, that Cas did the same thing too. That Cas thought Dean wouldn’t want him. That Dean had tried so desperately to convince himself he didn’t. 

In the Winter, Dean prayed. 

He didn’t do much of that anymore. Most of his past prayer had been for Cas, who was no longer around to hear him. Or God. A God Dean only ever half believed in. A God who turned out to be real after all. A God who turned out to be a monster. 

Dean prayed anyway. 

First to Cas. Who couldn’t hear him. Who probably wouldn’t be listening even if he could. He told him about mundane stuff at first. Sam’s new haircut, that Dean was admittedly _way_ too happy about. Miracle’s new friend at the dog park. How they were going to the beach that weekend, to lay on the sand in the cold. Their plans to move Eileen in with them in the summer. Dean’s progress in learning sign language. How she and Sam were probably gonna get married. How Jack sent them messages sometimes. Butterflies appearing indoors, seemingly forming out of nothing. An empty beer bottle suddenly refilling. Perfect weather on Sam’s birthday. A freshly baked pie in the kitchen on Dean’s. 

But other times, Dean was weak. Weak, and alone, and _aching._

“How could you do that?” He grit his teeth when he asked, fighting the urge to bite down on his tongue until he bled “How could you leave us?”

_How could you leave me?_

Dean didn’t mean it. At least not really. He was just so angry sometimes. A blood curdling rage he couldn’t seem to take control of. Sometimes, he _hated_ Cas. Because Cas made a choice. Cas _chose_ to leave. Cas chose to die. And Dean didn’t know how to forgive him for that. Not that he didn’t understand. He did. He would have done the same if the roles were reversed. He understands, and he hates it anyway. He’s _angry_ anyway. Angry and unforgiving.

Then, Dean prayed to Jack. That became more of a regular practice for him. Mostly because he knew Jack could hear him. And sometimes, if he was lucky, Jack would answer. In a warm gust of wind through this bedroom, the whip of it through his blankets sounding like a distant whisper. A quiet, unsure, _I miss you guys too._ And Dean would smile. Because Jack was _there._ He was somewhere. He was everywhere. At least Dean could hold on to that. At least he still had that.

Then, Dean became desperate. 

It was the one year anniversary of Cas’ death. 365 days of restless sleep. Dreaming of Cas’ tear stained face. A year of Dean’s heart being one beat from giving out. He stood in the place Cas was before for hours. Tried to put himself in his place. Get inside his head. Find a reason. Find a _why._ Like Dean didn’t already know the answer. Like Cas didn’t tell him himself. 

_I love you._

“Jack?” Dean prayed “...I hope you’ve got your ears on kid”

Dean closed his eyes as tightly as he could. Almost afraid to open them. Afraid to be greeted once again by an empty room. Afraid that Jack won’t hear him. Or he won’t answer. Or he won’t care. 

“...I know you aren’t supposed to do Sam and I any favors anymore. Or, I guess you don’t want to. You wanna keep your nose clean, stay neutral. Not, ya know, _intervene._ But kid… it’s been a _year_ ” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter “And there’s just… Jack there’s so much I never got to tell him. So much I never got to say. And I just- I need to see him again. I need to, to _tell_ him. I won’t know how to live with myself if I don’t. I need- I need _him._ I need him here. Please kid. I’m begging you”

Reluctantly, Dean creeped his eyes open. He was greeted, just as he feared, by an empty room. And it broke him. Shattered him into pieces on the concrete floor. 

“...Cas” Dean practically sobbed. Falling to his knees in defeat. Pressing his forehead to the cool floor. “Cas listen to me. If you can hear this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just- I should have done something. I should have helped you. I should have _saved_ you. And Cas… Cas I should have-“

_I should have said it back._

It played over and over and over again in Dean’s head. The red rimmed shimmer of Cas’ eyes. The utter peace he exuded in that moment. Somehow happier than Dean had ever seen him with Death looming mere moments away. Dean thinks of his dry throat. His empty head. His sealed lips. All the things he should have said. The things he wanted to say. But he froze. He panicked. It all happened too fast. And now he won’t ever get the chance. 

And then, in the springtime, Cas came back. 

Dean didn’t know, at first. Not until Jack left a map on the table in the library. The whole thing charred and burned, except for one little dot. One little town, somewhere in southern Indiana. Dean knew what it meant. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just wanted it so badly he didn’t care. The excitement, and pain, and longing, welled up inside him as he stared down at the blackened paper. He practically ran out to his car, his body on autopilot. He didn’t think to tell Sam where he was going until he’d already pulled out of the garage onto the main road. He left him a text, and drove in silence the rest of the way. For miles, the gas pedal practically breaking through the floor of the car in Dean’s haste. 

Dean knew where to find him when he rolled into town. He can’t explain it. He just _knew._

Cas was leaning against a metal railing, his back turned to Dean, the cool steel the only thing between Cas and the rushing rapids of the river in front of them. Just as Dean knew where to find him, it seemed, Cas knew he was coming. “Hello Dean”

“I-“ Dean gasped out. His throat dry once again. Lips sealed. Too much to say and never enough time to say it. “Cas…”

He turned to face him. It was shocking, for some reason, how much Cas still looked like, _Cas._ His eyes were still blindly blue. His hair was still tossled and unkempt. No trench coat though. No suit. No tie. He was wearing a hoodie and a pair of jeans. He almost looked like a teenager. Dean’s not sure what he was expecting. Maybe he thought his eyes would be more sunken, or his lip would have a twitch that wasn’t there before. It seemed too good, too _right_ , for Cas to still be the same. It seemed unfair almost, because Dean knew he couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“Cas how are you here?” Dean asked. 

“...I wish I knew” Came the response “I was gone. And then suddenly I just… woke up”

“Maybe it was Jack?” 

He knew it was. Dean had asked, _begged,_ and Jack had answered. Somehow, someway, he’d brought Cas back.

_Thank you._ He thought. Repeating it over and over and over in his head like a montra. _Thank you thank you thank you Jack thank you so so much._

“Maybe” Cas shrugged “...I’m not sure it matters”

“...I guess not” Dean agreed “Well. I suppose we should uh, go home then”

Dean was turning to get back in the impala when Cas spoke up again. “Dean wait”

He turned to face him again “...What is it?”

“I-“ Cas stuttered “I can’t”

Dean furrowed his brows tightly in confusion “Why not?”

“I just…” He paused again, seemingly unable to look Dean in the eyes “...Dean I can hardly stand to _speak_ to you”

“...What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean” He gritted back.

Dean blanched at that, almost reeling backwards. “Cas you can’t be serious”

“Of course I am” He replied “Dean I just- I _can’t_ be around you, the way that I was before. Not after-. Look I _know_ the way that you feel about me. And it’s not the way I feel about you. And I can, I can _sense_ that in every moment I’m around you and it _hurts._ It hurts… more than anything. And I can’t take that Dean, I can’t do that again. It’ll kill me” 

Dean can barely breathe. He feels like he’s in shock. He knew Cas could be dense sometimes, and not exactly pick up on social cues, but _this?_ He couldn’t be _that_ blind, could he? Or maybe Dean was hiding it better than he thought he was. Maybe he was cold without meaning to be. Maybe he was distant. Maybe it was embedded so deeply within him to _suppress_ that part of who he was that he did it without even realizing. On pure instinct alone. 

“...You must be some kind of an idiot” Dean said regardless.

“...What?”

Dean took a step closer “...I’m sorry” He breathed “I didn’t mean that I just- Cas, you didn’t even give me a _chance_ ”

“Neither did you” Cas pointed out. 

“I didn’t think angels could even…”

“Fall in love?” Cas finished his sentence. And it knocked the wind clean out of Dean. Made him choke on his own breath. “Well, neither did I. But… here I am anyway”

Dean took another step. “... _We_ ” He corrected him “Here _we_ are'' Cas swallowed hard, and Dean watched his Adam's apple bob. “...Cas, what I felt for you? What I _feel_ for you, it didn’t make sense to me. It sort of… it sort of still doesn’t. And I tried so hard, for _so_ long to just ignore it, and suppress it, and pretend it wasn’t there but I just… I _can’t._ Not anymore” Cas’ eyes were red rimmed and watery as Dean spoke.

Cas exhaled a breath he’d probably been holding all year. A sigh of relief, and wonderment. “I didn’t-“ Cas stuttered “I didn’t understand either. In the beginning. When I first met you I… I _wanted_ something. I wanted to- to be near you. And to _say_ things to you that, didn’t make sense to me. And in the beginning I just _did,_ because I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to. But since then I’ve felt like we were just, beating around the bush. Walking on eggshells. And whatever other expressions could be applied here” 

“...I should have said it back” Dean choked out. Cas tried and failed to curb his surprised, elated gasp. “Cas… I’m sorry I didn’t say it back”

“...You didn’t have to,” Cas replied. His voice suddenly softer “You still don’t”

They were barely inches apart then. “Yeah” Dean sighed “I do”

Dean rested his hands as lightly as he could on Cas’ arms, a weight lifting off his soul just from touching him. Just from looking at him. Just from knowing he’s ok. “...I love you” Dean whispered “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that sooner”

“Stop apologizing” Cas nearly whispered “Please…” It almost felt like a plea for something else. Something more. Something having to do with the flick of his eyes down to Dean’s mouth and back. 

“...Ok” 

Their first kiss had come and gone before Dean even realized it was happening. A quick, gentle brush of their lips. Barely enough for him to feel it. And he _wanted_ to feel it. 

So he kissed him again. And this time, he rolled his shoulders closer, let his hands rest on Cas’ cheeks, let their hip bones clink together. He let himself drink in every place their bodies touched, let himself linger in the press of Cas’ mouth. Just because he _wanted_ to. For the first time in his whole life, Dean indulged his own desires. He let himself have what he wanted. 

_Thank you._ He prayed again. To Jack. To Cas. To himself, even. To anyone that was listening. _Thank you._

“...So, what now?” Cas asked. 

Dean didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know. Having Cas had always been a dream. Something he imagined when he couldn’t fall asleep at night. Something that distracted him, made him lose his train of thought, when Cas was talking to him. But now he’s _got_ it. He’s got Cas. So what does he do now?

“...Let’s go home”


End file.
